The Bounty hunting couple of ‘Scratch and Crush’ had apparently missed their latest target as Victor Morrison’s apartment appeared to have been vacated. They had been on the trail of Morrison for over a week now, after he skipped out on his latest bail hearing for assault and drug possession. Natalie ‘Scratch’ Simpson and Dominic ‘Crush’ Carlone had been hired to hunt down Mr. Morrison as their next target . The couple had been in this business for well over twelve years now with their business cards saying
“CATCHING CROOKS FOR CASH”
The chemistry they shared together was often electric but never romantic. It was one of mutual respect and a fearless determination to put away the bad guys.
“Shit, he ain’t here” Scratch said begrudgingly as she walked into the bedroom with her nine millimeter drawn in front of her.
Crush stood in the living room listening to her. She unfortunately maybe right. They had both checked every room in the apartment and all the closets with no sign of Victor Morrison to be found anywhere.
“This place is the biggest dumping ground I’ve ever seen” Crush yelled back at Scratch. He wasn’t exaggerating either. The apartment was filled throughout all of its interior with piles of dirty clothes, shoulder-high stacks of magazines and giant clear garbage bags filled with recyclables.
Scratch walked back into the living room, shaking her head.
“Damn. They said he was like a hoarder,” she looked down at multiple empty bags of chips and snacks on the floor, “And he liked his junk food.”
Both of them stood there a minute feeling discouraged. They were good at their jobs, having never lost a bounty until now.
Crush holstered his gun. “Come on. Lets get outta here” he said to his partner as they both headed to the front door.
As Crush began to turn the door handle, Scratch stopped walking and turned around to look back into the apartment with a look of curiosity.
“You know”…She began to walk towards pile of clothes on the floor. ” I smell Cheetos.”
“Yeah..So?” Crush replied back as started to follow her in. “The guy ate crap. Whaddya expect?”
“Yeah…Maybe..” Scratch held up her revolver in front of her as she got closer to pile of clothes, that seemed to be shaking. “But, all those bags of chips and not one of them being a damn Cheetos bag. ISN’T THAT RIGHT, MR. MORRISON?”
She leans over the pile and pulls some clothes off the top.
Laying there surrounded by various shirts and pants, with an open bag of Cheetos, was Victor Morrison. His now disappointed face was covered in orange crumbs and swallowing what ever incriminating Cheetos he had stuffed in his mouth.
Inspired by the Haunted Wordsmith’s- Story Starter Challenge #8- “I smell Cheetos”